Treble Clefs and Coffee Beans
by rosanoodle
Summary: Alfred Jones is a young barista, making the most of life. Good looks, good brains, and good friends, he thinks he has it all, until a Help Wanted sign, and a curious acquisition brings something into his life; the one thing that he cannot have, which happens to be the one thing he truly wants.
1. Chapter 1

Some people are morning people, in that they spring out of bed in the morning, feeling refreshed and energised every day. Others are night owls, who experience getting out of bed as being the most gargantuan task of their day, but later, could stay up until the early hours without as much as a single yawn or bleary eye. Alfred Jones fits neither category. He rises with the sun (before it, in the winter months) and could probably keep going until it next rose, if Matthew allowed him.  
The boundless energy served him well in school, enabling him to socialise frequently, study for tests and finals, and even participate in a few of the sports teams. He could have picked virtually any university in the world, and any major he desired; his father was determined to frame the M.I.T. acceptance letter. That was, until Alfred turned it down. A mailbox packed with acceptance letters, and he turned down each one.

What Alfred liked was making people happy, and he couldn't do that on a first person basis as an engineer, or a chemist. He could do it, however, in a coffee shop.

After graduating, Alfred and his step brother moved into a small bit comfortable apartment together. Matthew took a creative writing course at the community college, alongside part-time work at a convenience store, while Alfred got a job at a small, independent coffee shop.

The Tulip Garden was a rather cute cafe. The window frames, sign over the door, and the door itself, were all painted in a pastel orange, while each round table indoors had a small vase in the center, holding a few tulips which were freshly picked from the window boxes. Alfred has worked there for around a year, alongside a timid man who could brew the world's best cup of coffee, and under the quiet glare of an exceptionally tall man, with exceptionally tall hair, who carried a constant underlying scent of marijuana smoke. And it is here that our story begins, and a new chapter in the life of Alfred F. Jones opens with a piece of paper on a window, and a mysteriously acquired piano.

Two blond, bespectacled men walked down the street. One carried a satchel, and was a little sluggish in his movements, a yawn escaping as a visible wisp in the crisp morning air. Alfred had a skip in his step, almost slipping on the frosty ground, only to recover, not even missing a beat as he reeled off each and every detail of the following years most anticipated movies. Matthew nodded in an uncommitted manner, his hands thrust into the pockets of his blue hoodie. He was desperate to reach the coffee shop for his morning revival, then he might actually listen to Alfred's ceaseless chatter. Matthew glanced up from the ground for a moment, and saw his breath release as a sigh of relief at the sight of the orange shop right ahead. About half way through an overly long account of his hopes for Captain America 2, Alfred stopped talking. The sudden silence drew Matthew's attention as they drew to a stop outside the coffee shop.

"What's up?" He asked, stifling another yawn in the sleeve of his hoodie. Alfred nodded at the shop window, and Matthew looked up, noticing a 'Help Wanted' sign.

"Am I being fired?" Alfred panicked. "I am, aren't I? Have I passed my free coffee limit again? Was it for flirting with the boss's sister? I can't help if he's got a cute sister, I mean, did you see her Matt? Oh, or maybe it's beca-"

"Alfred," Matthew grimaced. "The job isn't even yours. It's for a pianist." He tapped a gloved finger to the finer details of the sign, prompting the other to read it.

"Oh. Wait, a pianist? We don't have a piano... Well, something's up anyway," the younger of the siblings insisted, pushing up his glasses. "The shop's all lit up inside, but I'm meant to be opening it today." He took a set of keys from the pocket of his signature bomber jacket, as if to prove a point. Matthew only shrugged.

"Lars wanted to open early? Had something to take care of?" Alfred ignored his brother's reasonable suggestions, and went with his own suspicions that there was a burglar, or a murderer, or some other kind of criminal in the shop, and he'd have to be the hero to bring them to justice. He tried the door, only to find it was locked. He put the keys to use, and let himself in, beckoning for Matthew to follow. Matthew trudged inside, his brow furrowing as he heard scraping noises from an unseen part of the cafe. The sitting area was in an 'L' shape, with a part of the area invisible from the door. Silently, Matthew closed the door, as Alfred picked up a chair, holding it by the backrest. He cautiously approached the source of the noise, leaving Matthew to stand by the door, watching his brother draw closer and closer, until he was almost level with the area.

"GOTCHA, YOU BURGLAR!" Alfred cried as he leapt around the corner, and lunged forward. Seconds later, there was the sound of what Matthew suspected to be a wooden chair clattering onto a hardwood floor, followed by a surprisingly high pitched 'sorry' from Alfred. Matthew wandered over to the back, and smiled up at Lars, who was towering over an extremely apologetic Alfred. Sure enough, an upright piano was behind him, against the wall.

"Quit apologising," he ordered gruffly. "Make your brother some coffee. On the house." The owner of the small shop gave Matthew a nod, and what could have been a smile, but was more than likely a twitch of his mouth, expressing his need for another cigarette.

"Sure thing, Lars," Alfred nodded, going to the counter, and vaulting over it with the ability - but not the grace - of a gymnast. Matthew sat at the table nearest the counter, his usual table, and put his satchel onto his lap, opening it, and pulling out a netbook, which he placed on the desk, waiting for it to start up as Alfred made his coffee. "Hey, Lars?" Alfred called as he started up the coffee machine. "Where did you get the piano?" There was a moment of silent in which the only noise was the electronic grinding of coffee beans, before the deep, heavily accented voice called back with an answer.

"Do I ask you where you got your glasses?" Alfred looked at Matthew in confusion.

"Uh, no... Do you want me to tell you?"

"No. I stay out of other people's business, and so should you."

And that was that.

Six hours into an eight hour shift. Nine coffees, most of them after Toris showed up, because Toris made them better than he ever could. It was a slow day, so slow that Toris had taken a chair behind the counter to read a book he was about three quarters of the way through, and Alfred had perched himself upon the counter with his DS to play Pokemon. The gentle green eyes of Toris Laurinaitis rose from his book to examine the piano in the corner.

"Lars is hoping to bring in more business, I assume?" The man asked, his soft voice laced with a heavy tiredness that seemed ever present.

"I guess," Alfred shrugged. "Bit of live music would liven the place up." Toris hummed in agreement, adjusting the bobble that held back his shoulder length hair, and then quickly brushed his fringe from out of his eyes.

"Can you play?" Alfred looked up from the game, and shook his head.

"No, you?"

"Only a little. Coffee?"

"Sure. Vanilla latte."

Toris made their coffees, and quite some time went by before they were both shocked by the tinkle of a bell, signalling that the door was open. Toris quickly stowed his book under the counter, as Alfred leapt off the counter, shoving the handheld console into his apron pocket. At least they tried to look professional. Alfred gave the customer a huge grin as she approached the counter, as he did with all customers. He wasn't smiling because she was gorgeous, not at all. Certainly not an extra large smile just for her, no. And he definitely wasn't feeling butterflies in his stomach. Such a notion was laughable.

It was in that moment that Alfred realised that he'd been standing, grinning at her like an idiot for about five minutes. Okay, maybe 10 or 15 seconds at the most, but it felt like much longer. The dark haired woman cleared her throat a little, and glanced at Toris, who was really enjoying this too much.

"S-sorry, ma'am," Alfred laughed awkwardly. "Uh, what can I get for you?" The woman's lips pursed, drawing Alfred's attention to the way they pouted, and a cute little mole at the corner of those pink lips.

"I saw the sign in the window. Requiring a pianist?" She spoke in an almost melodic accent, which worked curiously well with the slight huskiness of her voice. Alfred wondered for a brief second whether or not this mysterious, musical woman had any flaws at all.

"Oh? Uh, my boss is out right now, but I could pass your resume to him?"

"Would you mind playing for us?" Toris offered kindly. "And we will pass word of your skills to the employer." The woman nodded, and walked to the back of the room, short heels clicking on the floor. She sat down at the piano gracefully, opened the lid, and then, she began to play.

A melody like none Alfred had ever heard before flowed from her fingertips. Arpeggios and crescendos waltzed hand in hand the through the cafe, dancing to the breathtaking music the nameless woman gifted unto the world like a blessing from the heavens. Throughout her piece, Alfred never looked away from her, noting the way her body swayed ever so slightly with the music. He was utterly enchanted by her, and her music. His heart sank a little when her talented fingers brought the melody to a cadence. The final note hung in the air, ringing out it's last breath. Silence fell. A stunned silence, broken by a light applause, which Toris soon joined.

The woman stood, and walked back to the counter, her formerly stoic face bearing a small but sweet smile.

"I did well, then?" She asked, tucking a dark brown lock of hair behind her ear.

"I think you got the job,"Alfred nodded. "That was... spectacular." How he managed those two sentences in his awestruck state was an unknown miracle.

"We'll pass your details to our boss," Toris smiled, passing her a post-it notepad, and a pen. "Just write your name and phone number, and I'll put it on his desk." Alfred watched with wonder and curiosity as she wrote her name in elegant script. Sophia. Sophia Edelstein. His smile crept back as he repeated the name over and over in his mind, registering it in his memory so that he would not forget a single thing about this woman. After handing the notepad and pen back to Toris, she was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

"Sophia, hm?" Toris murmured to himself, reading the notepad.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Alfred sighed, still staring at the door. Toris chuckled softly.

"Yes, but I wouldn't waste my time, if I were you." Alfred's brow furrowed.

"Why not?"

"Lars has that little rule; no dating other employees."

"Oh. Shit." Toris peeled the post-it note from the pad, and took it to the office, pausing before he went through the door.

"She's not an employee yet, you know," the barista shrugged, glancing slyly at his co-worker, who bore a clueless expression. Toris rolled his eyes. "Date her before he employs her. Go after her!"

Alfred stared at Toris for a moment, as though the elder man was a genius, before he grabbed his coat, and vaulted over the counter, taking off after her.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred caught her from the corner of his eye as she turned a corner, and he quickly followed, thankful that the early morning frost had lifted, and there was nothing for the tattered baseball sneakers to slip on. As he neared the corner, a seed of doubt took root in his mind. What was he going to say? Did they have any common ground, was she even interested in him in any way? Self doubt was not the way forward, Alfred scolded himself. Confidence was something he was rich in, and God damn it that confidence would not fail him now.

Around the corner he went, sidestepping the man offering him a copy of some sort of newspaper. About half way down the street, there she was. Sophia. He broke into a light jog, and called her name. She slowed, glancing over her shoulder, and coming to a full stop when she saw Alfred. The man drew to a stop in front of her, grinning widely.

"Hey Sophia," he nodded. Sophia looked at him in slight confusion, fixing the collar of her Tyrian coat.

"Hello, er, Alfred." Alfred's brows raised in shock. She knew his name? Had they met before today?

"Do we know each other?" He exclaimed. "Were we in school, or summer camp, or like, were you in Matt's college class?" Sophia cleared her throat a little, glancing across the street.

"No, we don't. You have a name tag on." Alfred looked down at his work apron, and sure enough, there was the small name tag declaring in black marker that his name was indeed 'Alfred', with an enthusiastic happy face at the end.

"Ohh! Okay! So, anyway..."

Toris shook his head a little, watching Alfred bolt out the door, and up the street. The clumsy teen had knocked over a cup of coffee when he'd leapt over the desk, and Toris dutifully mopped it up without complaint before putting the note with Sophia's name and number onto Lars' desk. A quiet sigh passed his thin lips as he swept his fringe out of his face, only for the hair to flop back into his vision. He wrote a quick note on the back of his hand as he returned to the counter, to remind him to call the hairdresser. Another cup of black coffee was brewed, and he sat back down into his chair, sipping the bitter drink with a slight smile, and picking up his book.

Alfred would often ask what he was reading, and Toris would tell him it was some sort of supernatural horror fiction, which would cause the younger man to lose interest. The fear of the unknown which Alfred 'secretly' harboured was a blessing for Toris. It gave him a perfect way to avoid handing his book over to Alfred, and of course, it wasn't a horror at all. Toris would rather the tiles on the ground would crumble and crack, splitting open to swallow him up, than have Alfred - or anyone for that matter - discover that he regularly read romance novels.

He was deeply invested in a historical romance, at the moment, about a proud knight in love with a fair maiden. At the current point in the story, the knight was heading into war, adorned with the flowers that his love had gifted to him, flying a flag of her colours. Toris caught a movement from the corner of his eye, and glanced up, just in time to see his own fair maiden pass by the shop.

Natalia. Her very name was like a blessing. He could not tear his gaze from her porcelain face as she walked past, her platinum hair flowing like a sheet of silk in the light breeze of the afternoon. His heart fluttered in his chest. Had they lived in a different age, he could have been her knight. He would have gladly ridden to war in her name, and fought for her honour. He would fly her flag, and serve her, dedicate his life to her happiness...

Alas, this was not an age of knights and battles. This was the modern era, and the only way he could serve her was by making her coffee. If she ever came in, of course. Which she didn't. Not anymore. Not since the date. Toris's hand gave a slight twinge of pain at the memory of that fateful day, where she had come in just as Toris was leaving, and he asked her on a date. His heart skipped a beat when she agreed. It skipped another when he took his hand, and heard the sickening snap of the bones in his hands. She hadn't been back since...

"Toris? Is something wrong?" Toris snapped out of his trance, and looked up in shock, seeing a concerned Matthew standing at the counter.

"Ah, nothing," Toris chuckled, a little sheepishly, tucking the book away again, and standing up, stretching his arms a little. "You're here early?" Matthew nodded.

"Our power went out. No heating, no lighting, so we can't work." There was a grin on his face as he lifted his satchel, which was packed full. "The freezer wouldn't work, so we had to get rid of the frozen stuff. I took all the ice cream I could, Alfred will adore me. Where is he, anyway?"

"He's, uh, out. He'll be back soon. He's after a girl." Matthew sighed, and shook his head.

"Of course he is. It's not Emma, is it? Because Lars is going to kill him if he keeps chasing after her."

"No, not Emma. A new girl. She came in to try out the piano, she was wonderful! Um... Sophie? Sophia?" Matthew's eyebrows rose.

"Sophia Edelstein?" He gave a low whistle. "She's... She's something special. Good luck to him, I guess."

"You know her?"

"She was friends with the British guy in my class last year. I met her once or twice, she's pretty high class." Toris hummed thoughtfully, finishing his coffee.

"She looked kinda 'high class'," he agreed. "But you know, I think he could make progress..." As if talking about him would summon him, Alfred walked through the door, a huge grin on his face. "Told you," Toris whispered, sharing a quick smile with Matthew.

"Toris told me about your excursion," the elder of the two brothers said casually, pushing his glasses up. "Lars wants to see you about you, what did he say again, Toris?"

"Leaving during a shift," Toris answered solemnly, making even more coffee for himself, Alfred and Matthew. How they slept, and how the coffee shop could keep making profit, was a mystery to all, although the latter question could probably be answered by Lars' backstreet business.

Alfred's smile fell.

"What? Oh shit, now I'm gonna get fired for sure. Damn it!" He began to pace frantically. "I need this job! If I lose this job, I-"

"Why would you lose the job?" Everyone froze, and looked to the door. Lars had somehow entered silently, despite the small bell chimes. Or, perhaps they'd all been so busy with Alfred's breakdown, which had ground to a halt since Lars had expressed his ignorance of anything Alfred could have done to deserve being fired.

"He broke a cup," Toris shrugged. "You know how dramatic he can get." Lars rolled his eyes.

"We can replace cups," he said condescendingly to a bewildered Alfred, before returning to his office.

Alfred stood in silence for a moment, before glaring at Matthew, who was indiscreetly laughing behind his hand. Toris had ducked under the counter, apparently to fetch something.

"I hate you guys," Alfred hissed. "I thought he knew I'd gone out!" Toris could be heard giggling out of sight. "Oh, hey, is that Natalia?" A loud, satisfying thud, followed by a pained groan sounded from Toris shooting up, and harshly slamming his head on the counter. Alfred chuckled, and sat on the counter. "No hard feelings, bro."

"Speak for yourself," Toris grumbled, standing up hesitantly, and rubbing his head.

"So, I heard about Miss Edelstein. How did all that play out?" Matthew asked. Alfred shrugged.

"She's not interested." Matthew gave a sympathetic look, to which Alfred grinned, and shrugged again. "Hey, it's cool. I'll just have to try a bit harder with Emma." Not a second had elapsed since the final syllable had been uttered when a loud bang sounded from the office. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Alfred cried.

"You'd better be," Lars snarled.

The help wanted poster disappeared about two days later, and when Alfred asked who Lars had chosen, he was kindly told to go and bother someone else.

A week had passed since the day that Sophia has walked into Alfred's life. Alfred opened the cafe as normal that morning, and worked as normal for a few hours, until he found the answer to his question from a few days ago. Sophia Edelstein entered the shop, almost a little hesitantly.

"Oh, hey," Alfred called cheerily. "Can I help you?" Sophia gave him a half smile, and looked around.

"I'm here to talk to Mr Janssen?" She asked. As if on cue, the office door opened, and Lars gestured for her to follow him, which she did.

"Lars, what's up?" Alfred asked.

"Do you have to question every fuc-" Lars paused as a couple sitting at a table looked at him. "She's our new pianist," he grumbled, before closing the door.

Alfred gave the couple a free croissant each, in celebration.


	3. Chapter 3

If you asked people to describe Alfred, everyone would give a different answer. That's how humans work. However, every one of them would produce similar answers, each of which would probably have the words "confident" and "charismatic". Alfred was the type of guy who could start a new political party, run for election with the slogan "Vote Jones, Vote Hot dogs," and become president with his only policy being "free hot dogs for all." What's more, he'd get a second term in office. But all that power didn't interest Alfred, and for the past two damned weeks, his confidence had sealed itself away in a box, and swallowed the key.

Sofia Edelstein had come into the coffee shop every second day for the past two weeks, and played the most stunning music that had ever happened to grace Alfred's ears. Often, customers would request pieces from her, and whatever it was, Sophia would play it. Mozart, Chopin, Louis Armstrong, Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, The Beatles, Barbra Streisand, Coldplay, Nicki Minaj, Jimi Hendrix, Adele... Damn near any artist requested, she knew their songs, and exactly how to play them. A little girl asked her to play When Will My Life Begin from Tangled, she played it perfectly. An elderly woman asked for Tom Jones' Delilah, she got it. A couple of awkward teenage boys came in, and they may as well have been in a Peter Jackson movie, considering the mastery of her rendition of Concerning Hobbits. But on his breaks, Alfred would go over to her, bring her a free coffee - a vanilla latte with a caramel shot, topped with cream - and request that she played one of her own pieces. Nothing was played with more passion than Sophia's own compositions, and on the days where Alfred could spend his break listening to her play her creations, he was sure he was experiencing true happiness. Did he expect anything from giving her free coffee, or complementing her at every chance he got? Not at all. She'd turned him down, and that was that. He just liked to listen to her play, and felt she deserved a coffee now and again. If someone came in, looking like they'd had the worst day ever, he'd discount their coffee, or give them a free muffin, or heck, even just give them their coffee for free. Again, no-one quite knows why Alfred is still employed.

Toris had recently been promoted to assistant manager. His duties hadn't changed at all, and the only changes from his previous position was that he got paid an extra 50 cent, and he could order Alfred around. Toris only used his newly gifted power when he was tired out from a long night of his flatmate having tantrums, or having 4 hour long phone calls at 2am, and he couldn't be bothered to do his own duties. Today was one of those days. After having almost fallen asleep into his large mug of black coffee, Toris looked up at Alfred with bleary eyes. "Clean the tables," he half yawned, half whined. Alfred didn't even look up from his game. He only frowned a little. "No way! I did it yesterday," he grumbled, furiously mashing the buttons of his DS. At least it was a slow day, and Toris could afford to take naps. The 'assistant manager' sighed quietly at Alfred's disobedience, before clearing his throat, and tapping the plastic name tag on his work apron. Alfred scowled, and looked at the tag, knowing full well that the small rectangle said 'Toris' in a neat, fluid script, but underneath, the printed word 'Barista' had been scored out, and now read 'Assistant Manager' in the near illegible scrawl that belonged to Lars. "You can defeat Chuck later, Alfred," he said, guessing that the other was fighting someone in his game named, considering the murmured curses from five minutes ago. Alfred huffed, as a 5 year old might, and closed the console, sliding off the desk. "Put in a good word for me, if she comes over," he muttered to Toris. Sophia often spoke to Toris, and Alfred felt there was no point in giving up hope in at least being her friend. Toris nodded, before Alfred grabbed the disinfectant spray and cloth, and went to clean the tables. About two minutes later, Hungarian Rhapsody ended, and Sophia made her way to the counter, sharing a quick smile with Alfred. "The usual?" Alfred heard Toris offer her. He didn't hear her response, but she probably nodded, since Toris began to make her drink. The small talk began. "So, how long have you played piano for?" "Around... 20 years?" She guessed. "Goodness, that makes me sound so old." Toris chuckled a little. "Not at all. Is piano your only instrument?" "Oh, no, but certainly my best. I play violin, cello, clarinet, flute..." Toris' gaze was drawn from her as Alfred began wildly flailing his arms for Toris' attention, before he began to point and gesture at himself. "That's a lot," Toris exclaimed, putting the whipped cream on top of her drink, and passing it to her. "Alfred plays an instrument, you know," he added, glancing at Alfred to make sure he got the message, which he must have, because Alfred was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Really? What does he play?" Sophia asked with interest. Toris looked over her shoulder discreetly, to see Alfred miming some sort of woodwind or brass instrument. How vague. "Uh, recorder." Sophia's face fell to a grimace, and Alfred's contorted with fury. Toris smiled a little, and shrugged. "Yeah. Um, excuse me, I have some assistant managery things to do. You know, like, uh... Assist the manager..." He stopped talking, and rushed into the office before Alfred could kill him.

Alfred put his head down, acting as though cleaning tables was the most interesting thing in the world; he was desperate not to look at Sophia's disappointed or patronising expression. The deafening silence was physically painful. He wasn't sure whether he was glad that Sophia had broken it or not. "So. Recorder?" Alfred cursed Toris, and hoped that his flatmate had another shoe related breakdown at midnight. "No," Alfred choked out through the thick lump in his throat. He glanced up at her. Sophia's gorgeous violet eyes were fixed onto him with curiosity. "Actually, I play saxophone... Saxophone, and guitar." His head went back down as he picked up his cloth and the cleaning spray, moving to the next table. "Really? I never could get the hang of those," she said softly, almost as though she was ashamed. Alfred paused, and looked to her. "Yeah, but, you can play all those other instruments... I think that's really great. I mean, you're great at piano, and you can play all those other instruments on top of that. Don't feel bad that you can't play like, two extra instruments." A smile came to her face. "Thank you." Alfred gave her a smile, one that probably looked stupid and goofy, he realised in hindsight, but right now they were smiling at each other, and they had something in common, and that was great! "Ah, I have to go, I'm meeting someone." Alright, not so great. Alfred nodded understandingly as she finished off her coffee, and collected her folder of music. "A boyfriend type person?" He asked almost teasingly, cleaning the next table. Sophia laughed a little. "Not at all. Just a friend." She pulled the deep purple coat on. It looked fancy, like the rest of her clothes... Alfred wondered why she needed to work for the meagre wages of a coffee shop pianist. Especially with her skill level. "I'll see you on Saturday, then?" Alfred shook his head. "I'm off Saturday. I'll see you Monday, though!" Sophia nodded, but... Was that disappointment? No, probably just worrying about being late. "Yeah, see you then," he smiled as she left. Monday couldn't come soon enough.

Monday didn't have to come. Alfred was torn from sleep at 5:30am by California Girls blaring from his phone. He was an early riser, but 5:30am? On a Saturday? With a groan, Alfred blindly reached out, grasping thin air and bed sheets before he grabbed his phone, clumsily accepting the call, and holding it to his ear. "Hello?" he half grunted in his half asleep state. "Need you to work today." No greeting. Straight to the point. How typical of Lars. Alfred was about to turn down the demand, until he realised something. It was Saturday. Sophia was working today... "I'll do it," he said with a slight smile, reaching for his glasses. "Bro, it's 5 in the morning. Do you even sleep?" "When I need to. Be in at ten." The line went dead.

At ten minutes past ten, Alfred half-skipped into the coffee shop, before halting abruptly. Music was being sweetly played, a few customers were enjoying their mid-morning revival, everything was in its place... But behind the counter, where Toris would normally be busying himself with something, was a surly, olive-skinned brunet, his dark eyebrows pulled down into a frown. Alfred looked at him curiously from the doorway. The mysterious man didn't look back at him, but he was clearly aware of Alfred's gaze, as his lips began to purse together in suppressed anger, his cheeks turning pink. Alfred shrugged, and went behind the counter.

"Hey! So, you're not Toris!" The blond greeted cheerily. The other scoffed, and glowered at him. "Obviously fucking not," he spat viciously. Alfred raised his hands as though surrendering.

"Woah there, friend..."

"Cut the friend crap," the other snapped, one hand on his hip, the other hand held horizontally in the air, making a sort of slicing motion, before gesturing at himself. "I'm Lovino. I work when you're not here. Toris has got the flu or some shit, so he can't work. So today you're stuck with me. So, shut up, and if you see a Spanish guy come in and he asks for 'Lovi', tell him I'm not. Here. Understood?" Alfred had been too busy watching the man gesture wildly with his hands as he spoke, but he picked up most of it, and nodded, grinning brightly. Lovino tutted, and cursed in Italian before going to serve a customer.

The day went by as normal, just with much less conversation between Alfred and his co-worker. Alfred did his best to please him, he even told a Spanish tourist that 'Lovino ain't here', only for Lovino to scream that it wasn't _that _Spaniard, and call him a racist tool amongst other things while the innocent tourist watched the exchange with a confused smile. Alfred stopped talking to Lovino after the word 'idiot' was thrown at him.

At around 12, the music stopped. Alfred already had a coffee made for Sophia, and she took it gratefully when she reached the counter. Instead of going to sit at a table, she stood by the counter.

"You look out of sorts, today," she noted, sipping her drink, and looking up at Alfred with eyes that looked as if they knew all there was to know in the world, and more. Alfred shrugged, and gave her that prizewinning smile.

"Nah, it's nothing," he insisted, only for her to shake her head.

"Lovino's gotten to you, hasn't he?" Sofia's gaze had softened from the cold stare when they had first met. Alfred had thought of her eyes as amethysts, but amethysts were hard and cold. Her eyes were more like violets. Soft, and beautiful.

"I don't like being called an idiot," Alfred quietly admitted, cheeks flushing. "People assume it, and I'm not." Sophia nodded understandingly, her eyes never leaving his. She reminded Alfred of a therapist, or something. He could have been laying on a sofa, talking about his childhood, and his relationship with his mother.

"If it's any consolation, from the little time we've spoken to one another, I believe you to be an intelligent and respectable man." Alfred felt the corners of his lips tug into a smile.

"It's a load of consolation," he confessed, overjoyed to see her smiling back.

She took another long sip of coffee.

"Lovino's just difficult. I'll play you something, to cheer you up." She chuckled softly when Alfred's smile grew even more. "What's your favourite song?" Alfred quietly considered for a moment.

"Uh, What A Wonderful World," he lied. Sophia nodded a little.

"Alright," she mused. "And your real favourite?"

Alfred stared at her for a moment, smile falling. "Don't be embarrassed," she assured him.

"Truthfully? My uh... My favorite song is Teenage Dreams. Katy Perry." Sophia's thin brows arched in surprise, and she smiled. Alfred sighed a little.

"Very well. It's not such a bad song, I don't know why you were embarrassed." She turned to go back to the piano. It's.. not such a bad song? Fuck it, if he didn't try now, he'd never try again, and if she refused, he'd drop it, forever.

"Hey, Sophia?" She stopped, and turned back to him questioningly. "Would you like to do something together some time? Like..." He raised his mug. "Coffee?" The pianist looked at him for a few silent moments, before slowly shaking her head. He'd blown it.

"We work in a coffee shop," she reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess so.. I'm sorry, let's just forge-"

"Dinner would be nice though." Alfred shut up. It was a miracle in progress but no-one paid it any attention. "Would that be alright?"

"Dinner? Sure! Sounds great!" Sophia smiled, and went to the piano. Teenage Dream began to play, and Alfred was pretty certain that this right here was happiness.

A tall, tanned man with dark, curly hair came in, around half way through the song. He went straight to the counter.

"Is your boss here?" He asked with concern. One of Lars' special customers, Alfred assumed. He couldn't place the accent.

"No, Lars is out. Can I help you?" The mysterious man's face broke into a giant grin.

"Good! Is Lovi here?" Oh. Alfred had been wrong, he realised, as a cruel smirk spread to his face.

"Sure, he's in the back. If you hang around, he'll be back any second."

A dinner date, a piano cover of his favourite song played by his favourite person, and a perfect way to bother his asshole co-worker. No, this right here was _true_ happiness. Lovino's shriek of fury confirmed that.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd done it. Alfred had swallowed his sudden shyness, and asked her out on a date, sort of. A date. Dates were easy, he'd gone on loads of them before. You dress decently, pick up the girl, complement her until your lungs run out of air, and then complement her some more, make sure she's happy, and then take her home, maybe kiss her goodnight. A simple algorithm to a successful night.  
But that basic, mundane shit wasn't going to cut it for her. Sophia had been placed on a pedestal by Alfred. There was every girl in the world who would be satisfied by the same routine - with a tweak here and there for the more difficult ones - and then there was her, regarded by Alfred as the most sophisticated and respectable woman of all (not that other women didn't deserve respect, of course).  
Alfred had made his way through life as a people pleaser. His parents were made happy with his good manners and respectability, his teachers with his high performance, his peers with his mainstream interests, and his brother with the attention that Matthew was never given from others. He knew what people wanted, he knew how to give it to them. Sophia was more than people.

* * *

Alfred stared at himself in the full length mirror, a rare frown of frustration on his face. "Matt?" He called, voice spiked with uncertainty. "Can you come in here for a sec?" After a few anxious moments had elapsed, his bedroom door was pushed open, and Matthew stood in the doorway, his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail with a few stray strands framing his inquiring face. "Does this look okay?" Alfred stood awkwardly as his brother regarded his attire from behind oval-shaped glasses.  
"Depends on where you're going," Matthew shrugged in a poor conclusion.  
"The French place on Frith Lane." A silence fell between them for a moment, before Matthew raised his hand in a way that said 'give me a minute,' and left, soon returning with a pastel blue shirt.  
"Wear this one instead. I know you like the bright one, but let's be honest, it's tackier than the things that keep up the posters on your wall." Alfred threw a rude gesture, which only broadened Matthew's smile. "Come into the living room when you've changed." The door closed, and Alfred changed into his brother's shirt, thankful that they were so similar in height and build. The shirt was only a little tight on his chest and shoulders, but it was disguised well with the suit jacket. Alfred stepped out to the living room, and flourished his arms as though he were a game show prize. Matthew gave a nod of approval. "Much better. Especially for a classy place." He paused for a moment. "You really like her, huh?" Alfred shrugged, knowing that Matthew's point was that this was much more effort than he usually put into a first date.  
"Well, I guess... Kinda? Yeah," he answered in an uncommitted manner. Matthew gave a knowing wink to Alfred, before turning his attention back to his videogame.  
"So when can I expect you back?" The elder asked.  
"Depends on how well it goes, I guess," Alfred called back, grabbing his wallet. "See you later!"

* * *

In his haste and excitement, Alfred had left about an hour early. He used the spare time to stop by McDonalds and get a pre-dinner snack of a Big Mac super size meal and a large chocolate milkshake. Have I mentioned that Alfred's stomach has a capacity similar to that of a whale's? Really, don't be surprised if there's a sentient puppet in there, along with a strange, lonely Italian man.  
After eating (and taking advantage of the free wifi to pester Toris on Facebook for a while), he got back to his car, and began driving to Sophia's house, his phone's navigation directing him to the address.  
He couldn't help but notice how, well, fancy the houses were getting. He'd come from a small apartment building to detached houses with two storeys, and he wondered again why a woman with this much wealth and talent needed a job in a coffee shop. Soon, he had been directed to park outside a decently sized house, with a well kept garden, even for late November. He walked up a pathway lined with winter shrubs and alpine flowers to a door with a golden number eighteen just above head height. A split moment of hesitation struck Alfred before he pressed the doorbell, and let out a nervous breath. Behind the door, a melodic tone was emitted by the doorbell, and moments later, there was the sound of movement.  
Alfred stood back from the door, quietly surveying the street as he waited for her, but she did not take long. He heard the door click open, and turned to greet her, though, his words were cut short when he saw her. She wore very little make-up, just enough to highlight her cheekbones and bring out her breathtaking eyes, and her normally wavy hair had been carefully styled into loose curls which cascaded down in a carefree manner over a deep red cocktail dress which sat just below her knees. Her red painted lips curled into a brief smile.

"You look very handsome," Sophia all but purred, barely suppressing a light laugh when Alfred began to blush slightly.  
"And you look as elegant and beautiful as ever," he grinned, being generous with the charm he was known for as he took her hand, placing a gentle kiss onto the back of it. She gave a smile, and lightly squeezed his hand before she turned to close and lock the door.  
"So, where are we going on our date, Alfred?" She asked as she stepped down from the doorstep, raising a brow in confusion when Alfred responded by shaking his head, and grinning widely.  
"You'll find out when we get there." Sophia considered this for a moment, before she nodded once.  
"Very well, Mr Jones. You may lead the way." Together, they walked to the car, her black heels clicking on the pathway with each step.

* * *

There was a little small talk as they travelled to the restaurant, though it died away quite quickly. Had they not been working together for quite some time, the silence may have been awkward. On the contrary, it was a comfortable silence for both as they sped past the bright lights of the wintery city.

The car began to slow, and surprise was etched upon Sophia's face. "I didn't expect such a classy location," she mused out loud. Alfred's grip on the wheel tightened.  
"Is it too much?" He asked with an embarrassed grimace. "I mean, I thought you'd like places like this, but if it's not in your comfort zone we can go somewhere else. I'm sorry, I didn-"  
"Alfred." Her voice was firm, but caring, and it silenced Alfred; a rare feat by anyone's standards. "I am very much in my comfort zone. I'm just a little surprised, that's all." Sophia was glad to see Alfred's smile return as he parked the car.  
"Right, wait, I wanna do this properly!" He announced as she unfastened her seatbelt. She watched with thinly veiled amusement as he took three hasty attempts to unfasten his seatbelt, before leaping out of the car, and rushing to the passenger's side to open the door for Sophia. "Alright, now you can get out," he grinned proudly, offering her his hand. Sophia chuckled softly to herself, and took his hand as she got out of the car.

"Just like a real gentleman," she said approvingly. Alfred could feel his cheeks flushing pink. "So, where are we off to?" Sophia questioned as Alfred closed and locked the car.  
"It's the French place just down this street." He cocked his head to the side to gesture down the street, his heart swelling at the overjoyed expression on Sophia's face.  
"Oh, it's wonderful!" She exclaimed passionately. The couple began to walk towards the restaurant while Sophia described her previous experiences with it. "...Their salads are so crisp, with the most delicious dressings, and they serve the best creme brulee that I have ever tasted! Oh, an-"  
"Um, Sophia? We have a problem," Alfred grudgingly interrupted. They had come to a stop outside the promised location, which was darkened and void of movement. With a small frown, Sophia went to the door, and tried it, finding it to be locked. Looking up and down the street, Alfred found all the other restaurants to be open and busy.  
"Closed down for health and safety violations," Sophia read with from an official paper on the glass of the door. A soft sigh left her, and Alfred's heart broke to see her so disappointed.  
"Hey, there are plenty of other great places around here, want to check out one of those?" Alfred offered her with a gentle smile. She looked to him, and nodded her response, returning the smile.

They checked the rest of the street, and the only place with an available table was a Chinese restaurant a little further up the street. They were seated quickly, and Alfred was so glad to see a smile back on Sophia's face as she looked over the menu, musing over the combinations of flavours. "You really know your food, huh?" Alfred noted fondly. A light blush was evident on Sophia's slim cheeks.  
"My mother was a professional chef, and I love baking. It comes naturally, I suppose." Alfred nodded, fascinated by Sophia.  
"So, what can't you do?" He teased lightly. "A talented baker and musician, that's pretty amazing. Why aren't you in some kinda big orchestra, or running a bakery?" His heart almost stopped as the smile fell from her face. "Oh, it doesn't matter," he corrected himself quickly.  
"No, it's alright," Sophia assured him. "I suppose I just want to see the world outside of my social circle. My family is rather, ah, affluent." That much was evident, Alfred thought. Everything from her rich, glossy hair to her beautiful clothes and even her expression wouldn't look out of place for an aristocrat. Her voice with that smooth, flowing accent brought to mind the period dramas that Alfred's mother watched so often. Sophia Edelstein was like a dream, yet here she was. "I have dreams, but they are for later." She closed her menu.  
"You'll do it," Alfred smiled. I know you will.

* * *

They ordered their dinner, which came along quickly. Alfred had been eating enthusiastically until he paused, and looked to Sophia, who was looking at her plate, awkwardly holding her chopsticks in one hand.  
"Somethin' wrong?" Alfred asked with concern. Sophia blushed, and hesitated.  
"How do you, erm... Use chopsticks?" Her embarrassment was clear, though Alfred offered a kind smile. He reached across, and gently repositioned her long, talented fingers around the thin sticks. Drawing his hand back, he nodded.  
"Try it now." Alfred watched as she moved the chopsticks to her food. Her wide smile when she picked up some rice made Alfred's heart swell with pride.  
"Ah! Thank you, Alfred," she exclaimed happily.  
"No problem," he nodded, going back to eating. The smile on her face was thanks enough.

* * *

"I've had a wonderful night," Sophia told Alfred on the doorstep of her house.  
"It was a pleasure to give you such a good evening." The two stood, facing each other with almost shy smiles, hands still entwined.  
"I think we should do this more often," she murmured with a sly smile which only grew when Alfred's eyes widened. "Give it a bit of thought?" She ended her question with a gentle kiss on the cheek which broke Alfred's trance.  
"S-sure!" he stammered out. "I uh.. I'll see you later?" She nodded, and with a brief exchange of 'good byes', she went back into her home.  
Alfred got back into his car, and began to drive back home. He could still feel the gentle kiss she had left upon his cheek. His fingers ghosted over it, touching the near invisible red print which blended with the unfamiliar blush. Another date was definitely in order.

* * *

"Matthew, you are not gonna belie-" Alfred stopped in his tracks. He stared in shock at the scene before him, before walking back out the front door of his apartment. After standing outside the door for a moment, trying to process the scene, he stepped away, and walked back to the staircase to the ground floor. He slid his phone from his pocket, and dialed speed dial 3, holding the phone to his ear.  
"Toris? You're up, great! Hey, I'm gonna need to stay over tonight... Yeah I think Matt is fucking our boss... I know cause I saw it, Toris. Prepare the couch, I'll be there in ten."


End file.
